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3:41am November 11, 2014
I forget if I posted this photo. This is my current favorite smell in the entire world. Bag balm. My support staff like it too. We keep opening it up just to smell it. It smells sheepy. I didn’t know it was a Vermont invention but apparently it’s a point of pride that it was invented around here and everyone is worried about big corporations taking over the business. They say it’s the same product as ever, but you never know. It’s doing wonders for my cracked heel, which hurts every time I step on it. And as much as I thought my mother very strange for buying me Crocs, they’re the only shoes that feel even remotely good on cracked skin at the moment. As long as I wear my hospital socks on top of them. I guess it makes sense that it was a Vermont invention: Bitterly cold winter (and often fall and spring, sometimes even summer) + Dairy state = Cracked udders And necessity is the mother of invention and all that. My dad says that when he grew up on a sheep farm, he once cut himself deep into his hand while his hand was deep into a sheep’s wool and covered in lanolin. By the time he got to the bathroom to wash up, the cut was already mending in ways it really shouldn’t have been able to mend by then. So he trusts the stuff too. It was only a few days ago he was able to tell me that story. And a couple of days ago he could mutter “I love you” and “You’re a good girl”. And now i don’t think he can even do that, because my mom isn’t calling me for Skype chats anymore.

I forget if I posted this photo. This is my current favorite smell in the entire world. Bag balm. My support staff like it too. We keep opening it up just to smell it. It smells sheepy.

I didn’t know it was a Vermont invention but apparently it’s a point of pride that it was invented around here and everyone is worried about big corporations taking over the business. They say it’s the same product as ever, but you never know.

It’s doing wonders for my cracked heel, which hurts every time I step on it. And as much as I thought my mother very strange for buying me Crocs, they’re the only shoes that feel even remotely good on cracked skin at the moment. As long as I wear my hospital socks on top of them.

I guess it makes sense that it was a Vermont invention:

Bitterly cold winter (and often fall and spring, sometimes even summer)

+ Dairy state

=

Cracked udders

And necessity is the mother of invention and all that.

My dad says that when he grew up on a sheep farm, he once cut himself deep into his hand while his hand was deep into a sheep’s wool and covered in lanolin. By the time he got to the bathroom to wash up, the cut was already mending in ways it really shouldn’t have been able to mend by then. So he trusts the stuff too.

It was only a few days ago he was able to tell me that story.

And a couple of days ago he could mutter “I love you” and “You’re a good girl”.

And now i don’t think he can even do that, because my mom isn’t calling me for Skype chats anymore.

Notes:
  1. withasmoothroundstone posted this